


Palm Reading

by RosexKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosexKnight/pseuds/RosexKnight
Summary: In which Lacey is a gypsy and gets attached to a spinner.





	Palm Reading

**Author's Note:**

> (( This was a plot bunny I got and had to write down. I kind of fell in love with this verse??? I'm opening it for prompts both here and on my Tumblr, breaktimewritings please feel free to throw prompts at me!! ))

The Festival Caravan was no longer welcome in Longbourne. However, that suited them fine. They much preferred The Frontlands. They had much livelier celebrations.

The caravan had never been to The Frontlands before their first visit. However, at the time they didn't have much of a choice. Longbourne was no longer on their route, and a stop before Avonlea was necessary. The Frontlands would simply have to do. They arrived while the kingdom was in the midst of its Summer Solstice celebration, and had decided it was meant to be.

Somehow, the band of gypsies had become a staple of the Summer Solstice without incident. The guards had grumbled a little about the new additions, but they were always present when the dancing started.

“Come one, come all!” Called Jefferson from his perch atop his makeshift stage, waving his signature top hat above his head. “Come see the finest show of magic in all the lands!”

Lacey couldn’t help but giggle. Jefferson’s show was probably one of the only things in their caravan that WAS true magic, which was ironic. The usual crowd gathered, and Lacey relaxed for a moment, straightening the many wares of her stall. Charms, potions, fortune reads. Jefferson was the life of their Caravan, drawing in crowds with his boundless energy that bordered on madness, but it was Lacey that was the heart of it.

She'd been hailing customers all day. The people of The Frontlands were sometimes quite wary of her stall, but for every person who passed her with a sideways glance, there seemed to be two more than happy to indulge themselves.

“Simply hold that over your wife’s hand and watch the way it swings. It hasn’t been wrong yet.”

The man thanked Lacey happily, dropping a few coins into her hand. The brunette didn’t have time to turn away before more coins dropped on her counter. A boy bade her no mind, looking over her wares, eyes filled with determination. Lacey grinned at the boy. Children were easy customers. Their naïveté meant that they would believe just about anything they were told about what the gypsies sold, and Lacey was nothing if not skilled at storytelling.

“What can I get you, lad?” Lacey asked. “Would you like your fortune told? Or do ya see something that catches your eye?”

The boy didn't look at her. “Something for my papa. Something to make him brave.”

Lacey’s brows furrowed as she glanced to the row of feathers hanging from a hook, wrapped on a twine band and adorned with a bit of beading for good measure. Charms of daring were most popular among the young boys, but something about the way this little boy with his unruly mess of black curls asked gave her pause.

“I see.” Lacey said, leaning over the counter of her booth to be at eye-level with the boy. “And where is your papa, lad?”

The boy turned and pointed to the back of the crowd that had formed around Jefferson’s disappearing display. At first, her brow furrowed as she couldn’t quite tell which man he was pointing to, until she realized she’d missed a man entirely. The lad’s father was thin, and leaned heavily on a walking stick. It was obvious he’d perfected the art of invisibility. His eyes were low, barely looking up at anyone as he hobbled along, clutching onto his walking stick. When he spotted the lad his eyes went alight.

“Baelfire.” He said. “I told you not to wander off.”

“I didn’t mean to Papa I…”

“I was the one who called him over.” Lacey said, giving the boy a wink. “Didn’t mean to worry you, sir. Just wanted to show the lad my newest trinket.”

The boy’s father nodded. “Come along, Bae. We need to get home.”

“I'm gonna stay right here, papa. Honest. I'll come straight home when I'm done!”

The boy’s father looked wary, but his eyes softened when he spotted the coins on the counter. Lacey cleared her throat.

“I could bring him home.” She blurted. The boy’s eyes filled with hope, but his father faltered, torn between pleasing his son and his own cautions. She had no idea why it was so important that he trust her, but somehow it was.

“Alright, Bae. Straight home.”

The boy nodded vigorously, and Lacey gave him a wave as he started back up the path, towards the outskirts of town. His eyes kept low. Once again invisible.

“He's gotta be made brave!” Baelfire was insisting again. “You have to have something.”

Lacey watched as the man hobbled down the road, glancing back now and then as if to verify that his son was still alive. He kept his gaze low, not even fighting as a group of guards passed, nearly knocking him over with a jostle. Something in her heart ached for him. There was a story behind his tired eyes, and she'd never wanted to hear something more.

“I don't have anything to make your father brave, lad.” Lacey said.

Baelfire’s face fell. “I thought you had courage charms.”

She did. But none that would do any good for a weathered man who didn't seem to see himself good enough for anything in the world.

“I do have this, though.” Lacey reached under the stall, pulling out a jar of salve. “Once a week, rub this on his bad ankle. It'll help with the pain.”

The boy blinked at the jar and the odd containments. “Is it magic?”

“If you want it to be.” Lacey said. “Magic is...funny that way.”

The boy gave a focused nod, and Lacey couldn't help but giggle at the contrast between father and son. There was a chorus of cheers beside them as Jefferson popped out of his own hat. Yes. Lacey was fairly certain she could grow to like The Frontlands.

~

Lacey frowned as she scanned the crowd. Sometimes, The Frontlands were unforgivably tedious.

“Haven’t gotten a whiff of him huh?”

Lacey gave a glare to the brunette that had appeared behind her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ruby.”

Ruby only hummed, sliding behind Lacey’s stall to retrieve a deck of Tarot cards. “He’s somewhere around, I’m sure.”

“Better be. He owes me thread.”

“Is that all he owes you?” Ruby only gave a smirk at Lacey’s grimace, giving the other woman a wink as she skittered off to whatever fortune she’d read.

Lacey busied herself with straightening the wares of her stall, trying not to show how the absence of one spinner and his son could bother her so. Truly, she had no idea why it bothered her. It couldn’t have bothered her. It didn’t bother her.

Still, they never missed coming by her cart when they appeared. He’d always made it a point to come by every year, even if Baelfire didn’t always drag them over. Perhaps it had something to do with them being late this year. Yes, that was it. He probably just didn’t know they were there yet. Or perhaps he’d left to do some selling of his own in another town and missed them.

She pushed the thoughts away, focusing on hailing customers. Fortunes. Forecasts. Palm readings. Lucky charms. That she could do. That was easy. A little girl, Moraine as Lacey knew, cheered as her mother allowed her to buy one of their dream catchers, and it was only then that Lacey realized how late it had gotten. The sun was setting. The caravan was packing up. And yet still no spinner was found.

“Jefferson!” Lacey called as the performer beside her began to disassemble his stage. “Watch my booth?”

Jefferson grinned, and Lacey groaned, knowing that look. “Why Lacey what ever could be so important to pull you away?”

“A delivery.” Lacey said simply, grabbing the first thing her hand touched. She held up the dream catcher to Jefferson. “And a meeting with Ruby about tonight’s prospects.”

Jefferson hummed. “I heard something about thread earlier.”

“Leave it Jefferson.”

He didn’t, only giggling at her. “Come now, Lacey can you blame us? We’ve never seen you so attached to someone!”

“Just watch the booth you mad hatter.”

Jefferson gave her a bow and Lacey was off. Part of her, the part of her that was terrified because they were right, wished that she’d get lost. Yes. She’d get lost on the outskirts of The Frontlands and then have to bat her eyes at a guard and come back on his arm. Instead, her feet carried her exactly where she needed to go. She’d only walked the way to Rumpelstiltskin’s once, but somehow she’d never forgotten it.

She found him outside, spinning. His eyes were focused as his clever fingers ran over the wheel and pulled away at the thread. His wheel was the grandest thing he owned, and Lacey frowned as she noticed one of the legs was propped up by a log of firewood.

Baelfire was the first to spot her. “Lacey!”

The boy ran to her, throwing her arms around her middle. Lacey blinked. Wasn’t it only last year that he was at her skirts? Rumpelstiltskin didn’t look up.

“We were going to come by.” Baelfire said earnestly. “Tomorrow, before you’d left…”

“It’s alright.” Lacey said, handing Baelfire the dreamcatcher. “I brought you something.”

Baelfire’s brows furrowed. “What is it?”

“It’s called a dreamcatcher.”

“Is it magic?”

“If you want it to be.” Lacey said, her usual answer for the boy. “See this circle? It catches bad dreams so they don’t come to you.”

Baelfire’s eyes filled with wonder, and Lacey’s heart ached for a moment. He was already getting older. Soon, he’d be too old for her wares. She glanced to Rumpelstiltskin. His wheel had stopped, and his eyes were a storm of emotion as he looked between her and his son.

“Where should I hang it?”

“Close to a bed, but not too far away. It helps if it’s by a window too. Or the opening of a door.”

Baelfire nodded, rushing inside. Lacey swallowed, wondering why she felt so nervous as she moved to sit by Rumpelstiltskin as he spun. She watched for a moment, having never learned the skill herself.

“We truly were coming tomorrow.” The spinner said by way of apology, only glancing at her.

Lacey nodded, mesmerized by the turning of the wheel and how his hands worked the thread. Then, she blinked. The wheel wobbled, as if no longer as sturdy as it had once been. Lacey got a look at his arm under his hempen shirt, the makings of a nasty bruise there.

“What happened?” She asked. The wheel stop, but he didn’t answer. She huffed, pulling his sleeve aside to reveal not only a bruise, but several cuts, as if he’d been pushed down and landed along a slope. “What happened?”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“No it’s not.” Lacey’s tone gave no room for argument.

The spinner sighed, deflating. His hands dripped from the spinning wheel altogether. “It’s nothing more than what they usually do.”

“The guards.”

He nodded. “Your thread got ruined when I fell across the dirt. I had to make a new batch.”

“I don’t care about the thread.” She slowly ran her hand over the bruise, gauging his reaction. He flinched, but didn’t pull away. “Why do you let them treat you like that?”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t answer right away. “I deserve it.”

Lacey’s brows furrowed. She couldn’t have heard him right. Rumpelstiltskin might not have thought much of himself, but he had one of the biggest hearts she’d ever seen. It was apparent simply by how much he cared for his son. “No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.” He said simply, as if he’d said it to himself many times before. “I’m a coward. I ran from The Ogres War. My wife left me. Bae is all I have. I deserve it.”

Lacey ignored the way his voice trembled. Rage coiled in her belly. She wasn’t sure if it was for the woman who left him like this, feeling as if he were worthless, or the guards that only sought to push him down further.

Well. That was enough of that.

“Give me your palm.” Lacey said firmly.

Rumpelstiltskin blinked at her. “What?”

“Just let me see it.”

He hesitated, though his eyes weren’t as wary of her as they’d been before. She considered that a victory. She took his hand gently in hers, turning it over so that she could see his palm.

“Hmm” She hummed, tracing her finger softly over the line running from the base of his thumb to his wrist. “A long life line.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s brows furrowed, but he soon began examining his own palm as she did. She couldn’t help but smile, wondering if he knew how alike he and his son were.

“This one.” She said, caressing a short line running perpendicular to his life line. “Means you’re shy. This one.” She caressed the line running from the middle of his first finger to the side of his hand. “Means you have alot of care in your heart.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers over his palm. It was caloused and felt like sand-paper. But that too was appropriate. It was just as worn as he was.

“Hm.” Lacey said, furrowing her brow and biting her lip in faux confusion. “ Hmmm hmm hm. That’s funny…”

“What?” Rumpelstiltskin said, looking to her. His hand began to tremble, but Lacey only held it tighter. “What?”

“No coward lines.” She said simply, locking their gazes. His eyes searched her, as if trying to find a lie. Lacey only gave him a single, triumphant smile. “Not a single one.”

He brought his palm away, looking to it, searching for something that he couldn’t find. By the door, she heard a small chuckle from behind her and turned to see Baelfire scurry back into the house. His original words echoed in Lacey’s mind. Something to make his father brave…

“Come with me.” Lacey blurted.

Rumpelstiltskin blinked at her. “What?”

“With the caravan. Leave this place.”

“I...I don’t…”

“You could spin and sell your wares all over the land. See the festivals of every town. That’s all we follow.” She took his hand in hers again. “You could be free of all this.”

“I...But Bae--”

“Would come to, of course. Jefferson’s daughter, Grace, would love to have someone her own age. And Snow White’s kingdom is our next stop. Their princess always sneaks away. She’s Bae’s age too. He won’t be without friends.”

Rumpelstiltskin still hesitated. “I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Never.”

His eyes fell to his hands resting in hers. He opened his palm, still searching for some kind of proof of what he’d told himself for years. Lacey covered his palm with hers. “That’s what they look like.”

“What?”

“Coward lines.” She said, taking his other hand and guiding him to trace a short line at her wrist and one just below her pinky. Two he didn’t have. “Twice where I wasn’t brave.”

He shook his head, looking at her “You’re not.”

“I am. But I learned. I learned that if you do the brave thing, bravery would follow.”

The sun was set now, the night lit only by the moon and the candle in the window that Baelfire had lit.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” Lacey said, choking back the odd lump that formed in her throat at the prospect that he didn’t want to come with her. “But do think of leaving, Rumple. You can’t be brave here. This place won’t let you.”

Rumpelstiltskin covered her palm with his hand, looking away. His eyes fell to his spinning wheel, then the small hovel he called home. He swallowed as he looked back to Lacey, smiling at him in the moonlight. Offering him something more valuable than she could have realized. Something that made his heart stutter.

“Would you...would this make you happy?”

Lacey blinked at him. “Would it make you happy?”

“I don’t know. But I want it to.”

Lacey smiled. Warmth filled her chest. She stood, moving to retrieve his walking stick from where he’s placed it. “Then we should get you and Bae packed.”

“Aye.” He said. “I suppose we should.”


End file.
